


Sunday Morning Dreaming

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Beds, Fluff, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The Florida Keys,” Blaine says, thinking of sandy beaches, bright blue water, and dancing with Kurt on a busy, music-filled street.</p>
<p>hazy futurefic, set within the next year or two, no spoilers past 4x22</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> For the past three years, I have written a pair of fics on a similar theme to bookend the summer hiatus, sort of as a transition from canon ending for the season and to giving back the characters to their creators when the next season begins.
> 
> This year my theme is vacations. The first fic was “Vacation, All I Ever Wanted.” Here’s the second:

“The Florida Keys,” Blaine says, thinking of sandy beaches, bright blue water, and dancing with Kurt on a busy, music-filled street.

“Paris,” Kurt replies. His sleep-mussed hair is tickling Blaine’s nose, but Blaine doesn’t have the heart to move Kurt’s head off of his chest. It’s nice to be close, as long as it doesn’t make him sneeze. “Notre Dame, sidewalk cafes, and strolling along the Seine at sunset.”

“Mm. And amazing desserts.” Blaine lets his hand drift down Kurt’s bare back and up again. Before they moved in together, he never would have thought that there would be such pleasure in _not_ having sex, in being curled up together half-naked beneath the covers on a lazy Sunday morning and knowing that it will probably happen but doesn’t have to happen yet. It’s wonderful, though, still so intimate but without any pressure. They can just _be_ together. And talk. “I think Fiji. It’s so beautiful in pictures.”

“Milan.” Kurt nudges his cool toes up against Blaine’s calf but otherwise stays where he is, limp and relaxed, barely out of sleep. “London. Obviously.”

“Antigua.”

“Tokyo,” Kurt says. “And don’t think I’m not noticing a beach theme here.”

Blaine grins and kisses the top of Kurt’s head. “You’re picking places that have major Fashion Weeks,” he points out in return.

“Which won’t get us skin cancer,” Kurt says. “And more importantly won’t get us thrown in jail. Weren’t you just telling Rachel off the other day for wanting to go on a cruise to islands where we or her dads could be put in prison for the rest of our lives just for having sex?”

“I wasn’t telling her off,” Blaine protests, though without much heat, because the pillow beneath his head is so very soft and comfortable and Kurt is so warm against him... and because he kind of was by the end. He just feels very passionately about it. “I was simply explaining that if she cares about LGBT rights she should put her money where her mouth is and not give it to countries who prosecute people like us.”

“And yet you put it on your dream vacation list,” Kurt says.

“In my dream vacation they’ve changed their laws,” Blaine tells him. His heart sinks a little, though, and he fluffs the covers in sadness. “But it’s a shame that so many of those places have nice beaches.”

Kurt makes a sympathetic sound and kisses the bit of Blaine’s chest beneath his mouth. “I read that Elton John likes to vacation on the Mediterranean,” he says thoughtfully. “We could go there instead. The south of France. Or maybe Monaco.”

Blaine feels himself wake up a bit more at that idea. “Are you saying you’ll go to the beach with me if we go to Monaco?”

“I’ll at least stroll along the seaside promenades looking fabulous,” Kurt says.

Blaine can just imagine it, Kurt dressed to the nines, walking alongside the rich and famous, the sun glinting gold and red in his hair, and his gorgeous eyes hidden behind a pair of exquisite sunglasses. He feels a flood of warmth and affection at the idea of Kurt being so perfectly Kurt there. Still: “That would be true everywhere.”

Kurt laughs and skims his hand along Blaine’s bare side. “Thank you.” He lets out a happy-sounding sigh, and they lie there for a moment in silence. Blaine has to assume they’re both enjoying picturing what Kurt might wear on a trip to Monaco. It’s a very nice visual, after all.

Finally Kurt yawns and breaks the moment. He stretches against Blaine’s body, toes pointing toward the end of the bed and back arching, and asks as he re-settles, his head back on Blaine’s chest and his arm heavy over his waist like he has no plans to leave the bed any time soon, “So where else do you dream of going on vacation if money were no object?”

Blaine pulls away from the image of Kurt’s bare legs in crisp white shorts and tries to refocus on his bucket list. “Mount Everest.”

Kurt’s fingers tighten against his hip. “Mount Everest?” he asks in surprise.

“Just to see it,” Blaine explains, petting Kurt’s shoulder. “I don’t need to climb all the way up it. But wouldn’t it be neat to say you’ve stood on Mount Everest?”

“I guess.” Kurt doesn’t sound convinced, but maybe for him the clothing they’d need is too many layers, if there is such a thing. “I’ll say Berlin.”

“Or Borneo,” Blaine says, suddenly swept up in the idea of lush green jungles and exotic animals, so different from the crowded city he can see outside of their bedroom window. “Tanzania. Madagascar!”

“Are you just pulling random names off a map now?” Kurt laughs.

“No,” Blaine says, though he kind of is. He remembers spending hours looking at the old globe in his grandfather’s study, thinking about what it would be like to live in those far-away places, what would be different and what would be the same. The names still carry a certain magic for him.

“Okay... then what do you want to do in Madagascar?” Kurt asks, tugging the blanket up a little and tucking his nose against Blaine’s sternum. His toes are warm now, rubbing a slow circle against Blaine’s shin.

Blaine is forced to shrug; it’s not like he’s read a _Let’s Go!_ guide or anything. It just sounds really cool. “I don’t know. Just be there?”

“In Madagascar.”

“Yes.” Blaine tries to sound like he’s really thought this idea through.

Kurt, of course, sees right through him; somehow he always seems to. His toes stop their soothing caress. “Do you know _anything_ about Madagascar beyond the movie?” he asks pointedly.

“No,” Blaine admits. “But I still would go there. You only live once, Kurt.”

Kurt lifts his head, his eyebrows already raised. The covers fall off of his shoulders in a way that would be very distracting if his eyes weren’t blazing with judgment. “Really? Did you seriously just YOLO me, Blaine?”

“What? We _do_ only live once,” Blaine says without flinching from that look. “I mean, it’s true.”

Kurt stares at him for a moment and then rolls his eyes and sinks back down again with a sigh, draping himself back over Blaine. “Sometimes I wonder how you survive in the world with your lack of irony,” he says. Then he laughs again and hugs him, kissing his chest softly. “Don’t ever change.”

Blaine might have been stung without that hug, but as it is it’s too nice to be tucked under the covers with Kurt to feel hurt. “As long as you don’t, either.”

“No need to worry about that,” Kurt replies easily. “Madagascar, Mount Everest, or Milan, this is who I am.” He stretches out his legs next to Blaine’s and breathes out a slow, sleepy breath.

Blaine thinks about Kurt in khaki explorer gear (complete with couture pith helmet) in the rainforests of Madagascar. He thinks about Kurt bundled up on the icy slopes of Everest, only recognizable by his bright eyes beneath the fur edging of his coat. He thinks about Kurt dressed in a spectacular suit, sitting beside him in the front row of a fashion show in Milan.

Smiling to himself, Blaine thinks about _Kurt_. Kurt learning to ski in the Swiss Alps. Kurt screaming with delight on a roller coaster at Disney World. Kurt not quite sure he wants to be petting a koala in Australia.

Blaine thinks about being beside Kurt here in New York. Standing next to each other on the crowded subway, walking across the Brooklyn Bridge hand-in-hand on a bright fall day, sipping coffee across a table at their favorite little cafe down the block.

He thinks about the informal dinners they have at the kitchen table, about late nights on the couch watching a movie, about the dance of early morning showers, about lazy weekends just curled up together in bed.

He wraps his arms more tightly around Kurt’s shoulders and beams up at the ceiling.

It all sounds wonderful. It all _is_ wonderful.

“I don’t care where we go, really,” Blaine says, tipping Kurt’s face up to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “As long as I’m with you. _That’s_ my dream.”

Kurt smiles at him, his eyes the color of some ocean Blaine might or might not ever see but if he does he wants to do it with this man at his side, and says, “That’s my dream, too.” He kisses Blaine, lingering and gentle but with the promise of more to come, drawing it out until they’re barely moving at all.

Blaine finally sinks back against the pillow and brings Kurt closer, tucking Kurt’s head beneath his chin. He strokes through Kurt’s thick hair and down the back of his neck, looks out the window of their tiny bedroom at the morning light in this city they’ve made theirs together, and just breathes in contentment.

This is it. This is everything. This, somehow, is his life, and that’s the most important item on his bucket list crossed off. He hopes he gets to cross it off every day forever with this smart, brave, funny, creative, fierce, loving man.

Kurt stirs a little, palming over Blaine’s stomach and pressing a kiss to his throat, and Blaine’s blood warms in response. Maybe it’ll be time for more than just talking soon. As nice as it is to lie here, that sounds really good, too.

“But I still want to go to Paris first,” Kurt tells him, decisive as ever. “Madagascar will have to wait.”

And Blaine smiles, curls closer around him, and says without a hint of regret, because all he ever wants to do is say yes to Kurt, “I don’t mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am UNSPOILED for the upcoming season and would like to remain that way. Please do not spoil me for anything!


End file.
